


The Only Lie I Ever Told You

by raths_kitten



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 08:17:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9984869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raths_kitten/pseuds/raths_kitten
Summary: Nobody knows that Castiel is the anonymous painter known as KAZ. When Dean takes him to a gallery opening for their first date, things get complicated.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://spn-reversebang.livejournal.com/profile)[spn_reversebang](http://spn-reversebang.livejournal.com/) and based on [](http://dreammaidenn.livejournal.com/profile)[dreammaidenn](http://dreammaidenn.livejournal.com/)’s art prompt located [on tumblr](http://alittlehuntress.tumblr.com/post/157774589872/art-for-the-spn-reverse-bang-20167).

Castiel wiped the counter with a sigh. The latest rush had been bad. Now he was looking forward to a few minutes of quiet time to contemplate why he was even still working at The Happy Bean. But of course it never worked that way. He could feel the breeze from the freshly opened door and with his luck, nobody was leaving. Stifling another sigh, he plastered on his fake smile and looked up to greet the next customer.

“Heya, Cas,” Dean smiled at him radiantly.

Castiel’s fake smile slipped and a real one took its place. “Dean. Hello.” Somehow, Dean always managed to arrive when there was a lull, so they got a few minutes to chat. Cas sometimes wondered if Dean was lurking around waiting for just the perfect time. But that would be too much effort just for him. Surely Dean had better things to do. Better things and better people. Cas’ smile slipped a little again. “The usual?”

Dean nodded and Castiel went to prepare his venti black coffee with one pump of vanilla syrup and one pump of cinnamon. Back when Dean first started coming around, he would insist on a normal black coffee but then add copious amounts of sugar and sneak in cinnamon when he felt like nobody was looking. As if his manliness depended on the state of his cup. But when Dean had become a regular, Cas made it his mission to get him the perfect coffee.

He had to sneakily make ‘mistakes’ and accidentally add various syrups, going by the face Dean made when he took his first sip to figure out if he was on the right track. Until one day Dean had waxed poetics about pie and complained why The Happy Bean only sold muffins and Castiel had gotten a better idea about his preferred flavours.

Castiel doodled a classic car’s rims and headlights onto the cup because he knew Dean would get a kick out of it and wasting a few precious seconds in which he couldn’t stare at Dean was worth it when he handed the cup over.

Dean’s eyes lit up and he whistled appreciatively. “Awesome. Thanks, Cas.”

Just in that moment, his new co-worker, Katie, chose to finally show her face again. She glanced at the cup and snorted. “He wishes he were Kaz.”

“What?” Dean frowned at her, confused, and Castiel ground his teeth.

“Katie. Nice of you to join me. Where were you when I served fifteen cheerleaders on their way to practise just now?” Castiel narrowed his eyes. Girls could be the worst with their special orders. Non-fat milk but with heaps of syrup, soy milk but whipped cream and sprinkles. Not that he blamed them for cheating on their respective diets, but special orders took a lot of time when he was taking the order and preparing the drink as well.

“Had to put some muffins in the oven.” Katie shrugged.

“So where are they?” Castiel demanded.

“Huh?” Katie blinked at him.

“The muffins.”

Katie threw up her arms and rolled her eyes. “God. You’re no fun, Jimmy.” She returned to the backroom. Cas could only hope she’d actually bake some muffins.

And more of his precious time with Dean wasted. “Sorry.” Castiel allowed himself to give his customer a quick once over. Dean was casually leaning against the counter, showing off his hips and ass. His jeans were hugging him in all the right places and his worn tee shirt only helped to complete his casual yet utterly sinful look. Cas bit his lip.

Dean smirked at him. “So, Castiel…” Dean’s tongue peaked out a little and Castiel swallowed. “When are you finally gonna go out with me?”

Castiel took a deep breath, prepared to decline the offer yet again, even if it got harder and harder each time. It’s not that he didn’t want to, but he was acutely aware of Dean’s reputation and he just couldn’t handle being just another notch in his bedpost. Maybe if he wouldn’t know him. Maybe if Dean wouldn’t know so much about him by now. Castiel had revealed his real name, for fuck’s sake. “Dean…”

“Cas. Come on. Pleeeeease?” Dean pouted and sniffled a bit and Castiel was out of reasons to say no. All his papers were written and handed in, there were no more tests coming up and the gallery was opening that weekend, so he didn’t have any more commissions either. And maybe he deserved a treat for all his hard work. And maybe… fuck it.

“Alright. One date.” Castiel’s hands trembled and he quickly grabbed the pen to doodle on another cup. Drawing always calmed him down. Shit, what was he getting himself into?

“Wait, really?” Dean straightened up. He actually looked flustered for a moment.

“Yes?” Castiel already regretted it. He looked at the cup where he’d unconsciously been drawing Dean’s face. He quickly hid it under the counter before Dean could see it.

“Awesome!” Dean smiled like he just caught the canary and Castiel gulped. “Friday night?”

Castiel’s shaking increased. Should he pretend to be busy on Friday or admit that he wasn’t? On that note, why didn’t Dean have a date already lined up? “Friday night is fine,” Castiel decided. “Pick me up here at eight?”

“If you give me your address, I can…” Dean started to offer, but Cas interrupted him.

“Here’s fine.” Before Dean could argue, someone cleared their throat and Castiel realized that he’d been completely oblivious to other customers arriving. He gave Dean a sheepish smile, threw a glare towards the backroom and turned his attention towards the waiting customers.

Castiel had just grabbed a fresh cup when he looked up to see Dean leaving. As soon as he was out the door, Dean did a little celebratory jump, pumping his fist in the air. Castiel laughed. He adjusted his nametag and stared at the embossed “Jimmy” in neat letters. Maybe Jimmy deprived himself of too many pleasures and it was time to let Castiel have some fun. With Dean.

And maybe he should start to see a shrink if he was thinking of himself as two different personas.

***

After his shift was over, Castiel went straight home. He was happy that he didn’t have any classes that day, so he could set up his easel and paint. Painting should help him clear his head. And his mind was overflowing with thoughts on Dean. The first few times he’d come into the coffee shop, they’d just traded smiles and interested glances. Castiel had been so happy to find him in the same Math tutorial he had to attend. Who knew art even contained so much Math? But it ended up highly beneficial for Cas. Not only did he pass his class, but he’d finally gotten to know Dean.

They started hanging out after class. Dean told him that he’d put his little brother through college first and now he was working as a mechanic and taking night classes in mechanical engineering. His dream was to built the perfect motor for his car. Apparently it was pretty perfect already, but it guzzled gas like crazy. And it wasn’t so much the price of gas Dean was worried about as it was the carbon footprint he left on this earth. Everything about Dean was admirable.

Castiel’s own tale was different. After high school, he’d grabbed a backpack and toured Europe and Asia until all of his savings had run out and his parents cut him off. Once back home, he realized that while painting was his passion, he didn’t want to just be an artist. He didn’t want to be known. He didn’t want to be locked up in the art world and only communicate with other artists. What he did want was to change the world. There was so much pain and suffering. So many people needing just a little bit more beauty in their worlds. And while he was lucky enough to be able to provide some of that at this point of his life, he still wanted more. So he was studying art history in hopes of teaching art himself later.

Not that he’d told Dean all of that though. Dean knew he painted. What he didn’t know was that he was the rogue artist only known as Kaz. Nobody knew what he looked like or where he came from, but his art started to get recognized more and more. It wasn’t a publicity stunt for Castiel to be incognito. He was just too much of a recluse and didn’t want to have to justify his art to anyone. Or worse, be fawned over by admirers who might turn against him if they knew his real story.

Castiel had been adopted when he was still just a toddler. Apparently his birthparents had belonged to a religious cult. His father might have been his mother’s husband or it might have been the cult leader. Nobody knew. By the time the FBI stormed the compound, it had been too late for his parents. Or so he was told. Much of his past was still in the dark and Castiel wasn’t so sure he wanted to know.

His adoptive parents opted to change his name to James. They had only meant well. It was to prevent Castiel from being teased unnecessarily for his name, or worse, finding out about the cult. They couldn’t know the kids would find more than enough other reasons to bully him later. And by the time Castiel was old enough to be told of his origins, he was just pigheaded enough to resent his adoptive parents for their actions. For stripping him of his identity, as he’d accused them back then.

Years later, they’d forgiven each other. But the damage had been done. Their relationship was never the same. Castiel had kept James as his legal name, because it was too much of a hassle to change all of his papers and because his parents had been right. Those few times when he’d revealed his real name, he was mocked and teased for it.

Except for when he told Dean. Dean had smiled, thanked Castiel for trusting him with his secret and had never once used the name as a tease since. The first time Dean used the nickname though, Castiel had almost freaked out, thinking he was found out. But it was just what Dean did. Castiel was his friend and as such he deserved a special nickname.

It was quite ironic, really. In the beginning of their relationship, Cas was pining away. He’d given anything for Dean to ask him out. But then, Lisa, another girl from their tutorial, had sat down next to him one day and warned him about the notorious Dean Winchester. Apparently he was a serial heartbreaker. A different girl in each class. Rumor had it, sometimes even guys. And while the latter had been the only rumor Cas was happy to believe in, he’d soon spotted Dean flirting with a variety of girls both around campus and even in the coffee shop. So Castiel had pre-emptively ruled out all possibility of them ever being an item. And soon after, Dean had to drop out of Math tutorial because his shifts at the garage got changed around. And he’d only started asking Castiel out months later.

Castiel looked up from his easel and out the windows of his spacious loft. It was paid for by an anonymous patron through a lawyer. Apparently Meg had told them about the small, crappy place he’d been living in before and they immediately offered a deal. Castiel didn’t know who they were and they didn’t know where he lived. At first it had made him very uncomfortable, but by now he had to admit that the space was needed for all of his paintings and the money he saved by not paying rent just meant he could donate more to the various charities he supported.

He focused back on his painting and took a good long look at it. He’d painted Dean again, set before a junkyard full of scrap metal. Dean was holding up a dying carnation and looking accusingly straight out of the picture. Castiel sighed. Damn. It was a good piece, but he could never show it to anyone.

***

The next day, Dean came by The Happy Bean again and told him to wear something sharp. Castiel didn’t have time to question it, as for once Dean didn’t stop by in a lull and before Cas could say anything, Dean just winked at him and left.

So Friday had Castiel raid his closet, finally deciding on nice slacks and a dress shirt. He also put on a tie, though he was hoping to be able to ditch it again. It reminded him too much of his early years in private school. At least the dark blue tie would bring out his eyes. Or so the clerk had told him when he bought it.

Not wanting to actually go in and be roped into work, he stalled just long enough to arrive at the coffee shop on time. Dean was already waiting for him outside, cup of coffee in his hand, also dressed in slacks, a nice shirt and the same green jacket Cas had seen him wear a lot. Dean’s face lit up when he spotted him.

“You came,” Dean remarked.

“Of course,” Castiel frowned a little. Why did Dean think he would not?

“I got worried when they told me you’d taken the day off.” Dean bit his lip and then looked Castiel up and down. “You look great.”

“So do you,” Castiel returned the compliment, and then reached for his tie. “And I see I am overdressed.”

“No, don’t!” Dean reached out, cupping Castiel’s hands and keeping him from loosening the tie. “Uhm, I mean…” Dean stuttered, blushing. “I like the possibilities it represents.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “You mean that I could walk into a high end office building and pretend I belong?” Castiel straightened his tie again and licked his lips slowly, deliberately.

“Uh…” Dean swallowed. “That, too?”

Castiel laughed. “I don’t let people tie me up on the first date, Dean.”

Dean chuckled as well, then he narrowed his eyes with a smoulder. “How many dates would it take?”

“Why don’t we find out?” Castiel offered, holding out his hand for Dean to take.

Dean smiled and interlaced their fingers, pulling Castiel closer. “Just so you know though,” Dean whispered. “I do let people tie me up on the first date.”

Castiel let out a sound somewhere between a choke and a whimper. All those rumors about Dean be damned. He was with Castiel right now, so Castiel should make it count. He leaned in a little to nuzzle behind Dean’s ear. “So, you said this date was ordering in pizza from your couch, right?”

Dean snorted. “You wish.” He used his shoulder to playfully shove Castiel away, but kept their fingers interlaced. “Come on, casanova. We have somewhere to be.” Dean led him over to his car and after Castiel admired it appropriately, Dean drove them to their mystery destination.

Castiel got a bad feeling when they parked though and it only increased the closer they got to wherever Dean was leading him. It turned out to be the opening of an exhibition at a local art gallery. The very same gallery for which he’d done all those commissions. Of course he wasn’t the only artist featured and since Meg handled all of these things, he didn’t even know which pieces ended up on display, but still. This was potentially a disaster.

He didn’t want Dean to find out his secret. Additionally, he really didn’t want to hear other people openly judge his art. One of the biggest perks of his anonymity meant that he didn’t have to go to these things and mingle. Castiel inwardly sighed, but he smiled for Dean. “How’d you even know about this?”

“Hey, I’m not just some dumb mechanic. I know fine arts, as well.” Dean gave him a look, but quickly replaced it with a smug grin. “I asked around.”

“I see.” Castiel was still forcing his smiles. And to add to it, now he was wondering which of his fellow art students Dean was sleeping with.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Dean frowned. “I thought you liked this? I was told there’d be food and drinks as well. But I have a back-up plan. There’s a nice pizza place not far from here.”

Castiel was very tempted to take him up on that offer, but he could sense that Dean had put a lot of thought into this, and he didn’t want to disappoint him. “No, it’s fine. It’s just… it reminds me of this project I have due for class,” Castiel lied. “And when I see all of the professional art, I feel intimidated.”

“Oh please. I’ve seen your cup art. I’m sure your stuff is even better than whatever is displayed in here. Probably just artists who slept with the right people.” Dean interlaced their fingers again and gave Cas an encouraging squeeze.

Castiel cringed, but returned the squeeze.

Dean stopped and pulled Castiel aside before they could enter. “Listen, Cas… I’m sorry for earlier. I don’t want you to think this is just a one time thing.”

“What?” Castiel huddled in on himself a little. This was what he wanted to hear, but not now, not here. He couldn’t find it in himself to relax.

“The joke,” Dean continued to explain. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything. I’m not taking you out to get anything in return, ok?” Castiel didn’t reply, so Dean pressed on. “Well, just your company, obviously.” He leaned in when Castiel still didn’t relax. “Just so we’re crystal clear though? I would not be adverse to more.” Dean pressed a small kiss to the corner of Cas’ lips.

Castiel let out a shuddering breath and loosened his tie. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in Dean’s scent. He smelled like leather and musk and kinda woodsy. It was a familiar smell and helped to calm him down. He was here on a date with Dean. And nobody knew he was Kaz. And nobody needed to find out. It would be fine.

He opened his eyes and smiled shyly at Dean. “I’m sorry.” ‘It’s not you, it’s this place. It’s my secret.’ Castiel chastised himself. Dean had made an effort taking Castiel some place he thought he’d enjoy. The least he could do was give it a try. “You said something about food and drinks?”

Fingers interlaced, they entered the gallery. It was crowded inside. Castiel could see the majority of people enter the section labelled ‘Kaz’. It was flattering but also disconcerting to see. The first tray he spotted, he lifted two glasses of sparkling wine, handed one to Dean and almost downed all of his in one go.

Dean simply raised an eyebrow and got him a second flute. They walked around the less crowded areas, Dean apparently really enjoying the canapés. He was making sure Castiel ate his fill as well, even though he was still feeling queasy. But Castiel had to admit it was nice. They quietly commented on the art and the people present and Castiel had to admit that it was nice to look at the different styles on display. And Dean seemed to like some of it as well.

“People keep staring at me,” Dean complained once they’d seen everything but the Kaz part of the exhibition. He was rubbing his left arm in a gesture of discomfort. “I am used to a certain amount, but this… Am I catnip for rich people?”

Castiel frowned. He’d noticed it, too. It was weird. But Dean didn’t noticeably stick out. He was neither over- nor underdressed and sure, he was hot, but there were a lot of well-groomed couples staring at him. Patrons. And Cas doubled they were looking for a threesome.

Castiel was just about to suggest they leave, when, to his horror, Meg rounded the corner and upon spotting him, almost dropped her handbag.

“Clarence!” she screamed excitedly, running over to him and earning them quite a few stares. “Oh god, please tell me you being here means you’ll finally come out.”

Castiel cringed, but he really had to thank her for her poor choice of words at a later date. “I think everyone already knows I’m gay, Meg.” Castiel gave her a meaningful glare. “But if not, I guess you could say this is my coming out, seeing as my companion here,” he pointed at Dean, “has brought me here on a date.”

Meg’s gaze finally landed on Dean and her mouth dropped open in shock. “Oh fuck.” She looked at Castiel in alarm.

“What?” Sudden horror dawned on him. “What did you do, Meg?” He whispered harshly. Meg was his art dealer. She used to be his co-worker at The Happy Bean and discovered his secret when he was still new and kept doodling some of his signature designs on the cups without thinking about it. It was a mutually beneficial professional relationship, even if she was annoying him sometimes. Like when she insisted on calling him Clarence and pestering him to reveal himself.

“Listen, Jimmy, it’s, uhm…” She looked back and forth between him and Dean. “Maybe we should talk over there?” She pointed towards the far end of the gallery, far away from the Kaz exhibit.

But it was too late. As if magically drawn, Dean had made his way into the room with all the Kaz pieces on display. And right there smack dab in the middle of the whole show was one of his paintings of Dean. It was the one he’d done right after Dean showed him photos from his brother’s wedding. It was a portrait of Dean perfectly groomed, looking gorgeous as fuck. It was a painting from his private collection. His no-go stash Meg most definitely knew about. But she’d probably figured he’d never find out. And her plan might have even worked, were it not for the object in question himself.

“Holy fuck,” Dean whispered, wrapping his arms around himself and staring at the paining. “That is… that is so….”

Castiel wanted to supply a few helpful words. Flattering? Weird? Surreal? Embarrassing?

“Creepy.” Dean shivered. “Like… some sociopath is obviously stalking me. This is me from Sam’s wedding. That picture wasn’t public anywhere. This… this…” He stopped, eyes wide and frantic.

They had gathered quite a commotion by now and more and more people were staring at them, pointing at Dean and whispering. “You want to go?” Castiel offered.

Dean nodded numbly and Castiel had to physically give him a push to make him turn and leave the gallery. Castiel was distressed. It was his fault Dean was so distressed right now. If he knew how to make it better, he would. But Dean was so disturbed about the painting, he was too afraid revealing that he was the creep who’d painted it would make it even worse.

They’d reached Dean’s car and Dean was still deathly pale. “Do you want me to drive?” Castiel offered.

“What?” Dean blinked, then stroked his hand along the hood of his car reverently. “No, I’m good.”

They got in, but Dean wasn’t starting. Sitting in the car seemed to calm him down though. His breathing became gradually less labored. “Do you want to stop by my place? Get something to drink?” Castiel suggested.

Dean looked at him for a long time, apparently considering. “Alcohol sounds great right about now,” he decided and Cas gave him directions to his flat. While he was driving, Dean tried to apologize for the evening, but Castiel didn’t even let him get past “I’m sorry.”

“No, Dean. This is my fault,” Castiel started. Maybe he should just come clean after all. “You only went to the opening for me. And the piece… the painting… I’m sorry, Dean. I never meant…”

“You know what?” Dean interrupted him. “I’m done with this shit for tonight. Can we please just talk about something else?”

Castiel nodded. “So, how are your studies going? You handed in all of your papers yet?”

Dean groaned loudly before breaking into a burst of laughter. “This is how you distract me? God dammit, Cas.” He reached over to squeeze Cas’ thigh and grinned at him to soften the blow of his next words. “You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

Cas blushed and fought very hard not to respond with ‘you think I’m pretty?’. “I better google small talk for our next date, huh?”

“You better,” Dean winked. “Then again, I’ve known you for so long, we might be past the small talk stage by now, don’t you think?”

Cocking his head, Castiel realized that Dean was right. They never had trouble to find something to talk about before. “How’s Sammy doing?”

Dean relaxed in his seat and proceeded to spend the rest of the drive chatting about his little brother. Things only got awkward again once they’d reached Castiel’s place and Castiel remembered why he didn’t want to be picked up here. For all Dean knew, Castiel was a poor student who had to work at The Happy Bean to get himself through college.

“Dude,” Dean looked up at the building Cas had directed him to. It was very obviously upscale. He even had a doorman. “This is where you live?”

“Uhm…” Castiel scratched the back of his head. “Yeah.”

“Are you back on better terms with your parents? That’s awesome, Cas.” Dean exclaimed.

“No, it’s not that.” Castiel had to deny, even though it would have been the easier explanation.

“Are you house sitting?” Dean tried.

“Nope.” Castiel wrung his hands. Now would be a good time to come clean.

“How much does The Happy Bean pay you? ‘Cause I’m sure I can make coffee as well, if this is what you get out of it,” Dean suggested.

Castiel sighed. “It’s paid for by a patron.” Dean just raised his eyebrows, so Castiel tried to explain. “This woman, she likes my art so much that she wants to support me, so she pays for my place to live.”

“What the hell?” Dean frowned. “You’re somebody’s kept boy? Cas, you don’t need to sell yourself for rent. If you’d told me… I’m sure we can find some other place for you to live. For now, you can crash on my couch. Just as long as we get you out of whatever deal you made with this cougar.”

“What?” Castiel froze. “What do you think I do for my patron?” He asked icily.

“Do you really need me to get graphic here?” Dean asked.

“Jesus Christ, Dean.” Castiel passed his hands through his hair. Did Dean really think Castiel was whoring himself out just to live in a nice place? “You know what? This was a mistake.” He opened the door and got out without a glance backwards. “Goodnight, Dean.” He slammed the door and strode over to the building. Before he could go in, he could hear the rumble of the Impala driving off. How had his date ended up so very wrong?

***

Later that night, after a few shots of whiskey and thinking it all through, Castiel called Meg. The night had started going wrong with the painting and this was something he could deal with right now.

Meg apologized profusely, but apparently the gallery hadn’t liked the painting she’d originally picked as centrepiece and in her desperation, she’d send over a few photographs of alternatives in that size, accidentally also attaching one of the portraits of Dean. Cas wasn’t so sure if he should believe her, since she wasn’t supposed to have pictures of it to begin with, but the damage was done. It was too late. She’d assured him that it was not for sale though, which was a small relief. Castiel would have been more than uncomfortable with someone buying his portrait of Dean. He just wanted it back safe and sound behind locked doors.

One thing dealt with, Castiel took a long shower and went to bed.

***

Early the next day, before his brain was properly functioning and he wasn’t freaking out yet, Castiel had a call on his voicemail. Dean asked him to come over to his place, giving him the address and directions. Castiel wasn’t so sure what to think about it, but it was Dean, so there was really no question. He got dressed and was on his way in no time.  
Dean greeted him briefly at the door and then ushered him in. His apartment was small but functional. It was cluttered with textbooks and papers in one corner, but otherwise it was sparse. Except for Dean’s cupboard in his living room. What looked like every single cup Castiel had ever drawn for Dean had been cleaned and was now on display.

“Wow,” Castiel blinked. Her was a little overwhelmed. If he’d known Dean would like them this much, he’d have made even more of an effort. But also… Dean had kept all of his cups?

“So, I googled Kaz. K-A-Z that is, not, you know, you,” Dean started explaining. He raised his eyebrow. “Or should I rephrase that?”

“Dean…” Castiel bit his lip, having a feeling where this was going.

“Imagine my surprise when I spotted a few familiar doodles and designs,” he pointed towards the cups and Castiel started squirming.

This is how Meg had found out. But he’d tried his damn best to change his style for coffee cup doodles. Except for Dean’s. Castiel was too distracted when it was for Dean. “Uh…” Castiel didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t even try to tell me you’re inspired by this guy, or that it’s a coincidence. I’m not stupid. I mean, you basically used your real name.” Dean gestured towards the cups.

“My name’s Jimmy,” Castiel mumbled silently. “You’re the only one who knows my real name.” He looked at the floor and scuffed his foot.

“Cas…” Dean sighed, voice softening. “Why didn’t you just tell me last night?”

“I dunno,” Castiel shrugged. He honestly didn’t. “I guess I was in shock. That painting of you? It never should have been in the gallery. I would never do that to you.”

“Why did you paint it in the first place?” Dean asked.

“Are you kidding me?” Castiel exclaimed. “How could I not? It takes a lot of effort not to include you in all of my paintings.”

Now it was Dean’s turn to look at the floor. “But why?”

“I try to spread beauty in this world. To make people happier through my art. And whenever I look at you, I’m happier,” Castiel confessed.

“So it’s just my looks then?” Dean questioned, trying to make it sound like a joke.

Castiel looked up sharply. “No, Dean. No!” He walked closer to Dean, reaching out to cup his cheek. But at the last moment, he pulled his hand away. “It’s all of you. You’re such a good person. You raised your brother and now you’re putting yourself through college all the while working full time. That takes a lot of dedication. And additionally you’re still making time to chat with me in the coffee shop. You know how many people pay attention to me? Nobody.”

“But you’re amazing,” Dean protested. “You have the most fascinating life. And even more so now. I feel like I could talk with you forever and never get bored.”

Castiel snorted. “Oh please. I am plenty boring.”

“Not to me,” Dean denied. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen Cas, what I said last night, what I insinuated… I’m really sorry. I have no idea what I was even thinking.”

Castiel shrugged. “It was a weird night. You were still freaked out by the painting.” He had to admit that it still hurt that Dean would think he was basically a prostitute though.

Dean shook his head. “No, it’s me. Sometimes I jump to conclusions way too fast. Especially if I care about someone. I always expect the worst. And things were going so well with us, there had to be a catch, you know?”

“You think things were going well?” Castiel questioned.

“You don’t?” Dean bit his lip.

“No, they were.” Castiel shrugged a bit. “Right until I screwed this up with my secret.”

“And then I screwed it up some more with my big mouth.” Dean smiled crookedly.

“Do-over?” Castiel suggested. “Let’s just pretend last night didn’t happen.”

Dean shook his head. “No, but I want to know more about your art life. I mean, you’re famous Cas, holy shit. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I dunno,” Castiel sighed. “I never told anyone and you already know all of my other secrets. I wanted to though. Dean, if I ever wanted to tell anyone, it would most definitely be you.”

Dean smiled. “I’m sorry about calling you a hooker last night.”

Castiel did a double-take at Dean’s choice of words. But his eyes were full of mirth and in retrospect, it was best to laugh about it. “A hooker? I thought you saw me as more of a concubine. Performing for the enjoyment of a rich person, you know?”

“Fancy word, same thing,” Dean concluded. “I couldn’t have lived with it. I only want you to _perform_ for me.” He moved closer, invading Castiel’s space.

“Dean… Do you mean it?” Castiel frowned a little. “You know this goes both ways, right? I don’t want you hooking up with other people. If we do this, it’s just you and me.” He trailed a finger up Dean’s chest.

“I don’t want anybody else. Why do you think I kept asking you out?” Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’ waist.

“But why? I know your reputation, Dean. I know about all the girls.” Castiel looked at the ground, but he didn’t push Dean away.

Dean scoffed. “I just flirt with them. And sure, I used to hook up with a lot of them before. But that was before.”

“Before?” Castiel asked.

“Before you.” Dean supplied. “You know how much time I’ve wasted standing in front of your damn coffee shop waiting for the rush to lull down just so I could talk to you? Just so I could ask you out again and again until you finally relented? Dammit Cas, you sure made me work for it.”

Castiel looked back up, surprised. He glanced behind Dean, eyes landing on the cups he’d kept. And was this really happening? He closed his eyes and leaned forward, closing the remaining distance between them with a kiss. Dean responded immediately, pulling him closer and letting his hands roam up and down his back. Castiel smiled into the kiss and slipped his own hands underneath Dean’s shirt, allowing himself to do what until now he’d only fantasized about in secret. - And allowing himself the hope, that his relationship with Dean would only grow deeper and more intimate and ultimately lead to something utterly amazing.


End file.
